


British Fandom Drabbles

by Meatball42



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Merlin (TV), Misfits, Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canary Wharf Battle, Christmas, Christmas Spirit, Community: comment_fic, Cultural Differences, Curses, Episode: s01e04 Cyberwoman, Evilitis, F/M, Female Sherlock Holmes, Gen, M/M, Nathan being a douche, News Media, Poetry, Post-Episode: s04e17-e18 The End of Time, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Rape Recovery, Reincarnation, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Swearing, alwaysagirl!Sherlock, nativity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snark, friendship, occasionally some serious shit. More to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sherlock, John & Sherlock, Partners in Crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John cares that everyone in London thinks he’s sleeping with Sherlock, but she doesn’t.

It annoyed John. It didn’t annoy Sherlock, well, things like that never did. So fine, maybe he was a bit old-fashioned, but he wanted to protect his friend’s reputation. That wasn’t an easy thing to do when half of London was convinced you were shagging and she couldn’t care less.

He’d lost count of the number of times that officers at the Yard had made comments like ‘Keep your bird under control’ or ‘I thought my girlfriend was crazy.’ He’d nearly attacked the man who asked if Sherlock even shut up while she was being fucked, and since then Lestrade had been laying down the law.

The public was just as unwilling to accept the truth. Everyone from the newspapers to the cashier at the corner store thought they were a couple, and a thousand repetitions of ‘This isn’t a date’ and ‘We’re just flatmates’ and even ‘I’m dating someone else’ couldn’t convince the world otherwise. Eventually even Sarah stopped believing him, and at that point the war was basically lost.

Sherlock didn’t care what others thought, John knew. She was amused when the tabloids began stirring mystery about their relationship, but since it didn’t affect her brain she wasn’t interested. The rumors didn’t make her stop bringing John to candle-lit restaurants, or tugging him by the hand through the streets of London at night, or giving him long, thoughtful looks that always made Sally Donavon tease him about eyesex.

Sometimes, John wished Sherlock was a man. Not that it would have made much of a difference to him, but then maybe the population of London would actually believe that they weren’t shagging. But when John watched her as she solved a murder in less than a minute, or leaped from roof to roof across an alley, or stomped around their flat for days on end muttering about being bored, he knew he wouldn’t change her for the world.


	2. Misfits, Ensemble, This is how we knew Jesus was going to be the bad guy in 2x7

“This is absolute bollocks!” Nathan complained, trying to arrange his toga so that he didn’t look like a complete tosser. “Whose idea was it that I should dress up as an old man going to fawn over a little boy? That’s just not right!”

“It was Shaun’s idea,” Simon answered, not looking unhappy to be sitting in a pile of hay next to a manger. “Revenge for what you did to his car.”

“What I- what I did to his car?” Nathan faked indignation. “I think we can all agree that was a joint venture!”

“You keyed ‘cunt-face’ over the driver’s side door,” Curtis jabbed the shorter boy in the chest with as single finger. “I’m blaming you for this.” He tried adjusting his toga as well, to no avail.

“Think we can claim religious persecution?” Simon offered.

“It’s either this, or cleaning dumpsters,” answered Kelly, trying to find more room for her boobs in the Old Wise Woman costume. “I say we do the bloody Christmas performance, ‘s better than smellin’ like rubbish.”

Alisha cradled the plastic baby Jesus and watched her ‘husband’ on the other side of the manger. “Yeah,” she agreed with Kelly. “This isn’t so bad.”


	3. Doctor Who, Ninth Doctor & Rose & Jack, How to Spread True Christmas Cheer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and the Doctor inform Jack of her culture’s traditional holiday celebration.

“No, really, what’s Christmas?” Jack asked.

Rose snuck a mischievous look at the Doctor while their friend’s face was buried in the Tardis console. The Time Lord winked.

“It’s a religious holiday from Rose’s time. They spend a month or so very subdued, thinking about the previous year and how they can act more ethically in the future.”

Rose just managed to keep her face blank when Jack turned to look at them, aghast. “And… you want us to observe this holiday, Rose?” he asked with a pained expression.

She nodded at him, trying to look pious. “Absolutely. It’s really rewarding. I always feel so clear-headed after a few weeks of chaste, moral celebration and reflection.”

Jack squinted at her, then looked beseechingly at the Doctor, who gave no quarter. “That sounds… very rewarding. I’ll go… get ready.” Shoulders slumped, he dragged his feet out of the console room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Rose and the Doctor burst into laughter. Finally, Rose asked, “When should we tell him?”

“Give it a few days,” the Doctor suggested, an evil glint in his eye. “I want to see how long the captain can keep up ‘chaste, moral reflection.’”


	4. Torchwood, Ianto/Lisa & Jack, Extinguish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto’s seen his share of fire and ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem 'Fire and Ice' is stolen (by which I mean creatively utilized) from Robert Frost.

Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.

_They are forced into the units, knowing what awaits them and unable to escape it. Each has already borne the screams of a hundred colleagues as their brains were torn out of their skulls. Electricity crackles unending, sparks fly, and something catches ablaze.  
He is grateful. Burning would be merciful in comparison._

From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favor fire.

_Panting, clenching, screaming out into the silence of their apartment. He pulls her close and her hot breath is almost unbearable on his sweaty neck; still he does not let go._

But if it had to perish twice,

_“On your knees! Hands above your head!”_

I think I know enough of hate

_“I clear up your shit. No questions asked and that's the way you like it. When did you last ask me anything about my life?”_

To say that for destruction ice

_“You're worse than anything locked up down there! One day, I'll have the chance to save you ... and I'll watch you suffer and die.”_

Is also great

_“You execute her or I'll execute you both!”_

And would suffice.

_Bang._


	5. Merlin, Arthur & Merlin & Gaius, Evil Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur gets cursed, yet again.

Merlin opened the door to Arthur's chambers a crack and then sighed in relief, letting Gaius inside. He closed the door quickly behind the physician.

"You've got to do something, Gaius, I've got no idea what's wrong with him." Behind him, the Crown Prince of Camelot cackled madly, picking up one of the model cavalry pieces on the map the nobles used for war strategy and crushing an innocent castle.

Gauis raised his eyebrow at the spectacle and got to work. A few minutes later, he had a diagnosis:

"I'm afraid Prince Arthur has been cursed with evilitis," he told Merlin in a deeply concerned tone.

"He's got what?" Merlin said in disblief.

"Evilitis," Gaius enunciated. "It's a very dangerous spell, Merlin." Arthur spat a fig into Gaius' hair, grinning evilly.

The young warlock sighed. It was going to be one of those days.


	6. Sherlock, John & Sherlock, The Corner of a Straight Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt 'Sherlock discovers that John is a rape victim.'

It’s not that John was trying to hide it. It’s that he thought Sherlock already knew. He knows everything else, after all.

But one day they’re at a crime scene- and it doesn’t even make sense, it’s a burglar who just graduated to murder, there isn’t even any- and John must have said something or done something or breathed in some significant manner because Sherlock is suddenly looking at him and he says, “Oh.”

And then he must see something else, something John’s much more grateful about, because for once he practices restraint, or decorum, or- God forbid- tact and just goes on with the investigation.

John keeps expecting something to change, because it always does- his sister stopped shouting at him for months when he told her, and he could tell when Lestrade’s background check had finished because the suspicion changed into forced normality- but Sherlock keeps texting him in the middle of anything and everything, his insults are just as cutting and his respect of John’s personal space doesn’t increase a single iota. After a week he stops expecting it to be brought up in horribly awkward conversation; after a month he stops searching for pity in Sherlock's eyes.

Later, he thinks that maybe this was what helped him move on.


	7. Doctor Who, River Song/Eleventh Doctor, Marriage Means...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Marriage means being more careful with your secrets.'

 

_'Marriage means being more careful with your secrets.'_

 

  
He thinks he's subtle.

He's _never_ subtle.

  
[*]

  
"What about Barcelona, have we been there yet?" you ask.

  
"Barcelona!" he repeats, nearly hysteric with indignation. "I've been trying to get there for centuries! It was a challenge, a quest! And now you've gone and told me I get there and ruin it all." He pouts, lips sticking out ridiculously.

  
You just want to pinch his cheeks. "Time is always in flux, sweetie." You make a note in your planner to bring him to Barcelona at some point in the future. Somehow he's never caught on that a good potion of your when-are-we questions are scouting out good date locations.

  
"And what about Utah, have you been there?" You have to follow him around the console, where he's trying to use the compact toaster to ease the load on the hydraulics. Heaven help her, but she married a silly one.

  
"Utah, the first time or the second?" He punches the heat button angrily, and you consider that his next piece of toast will be a smudge on the console.

  
"We go there twice?" you ask. You sound simply disapproving, but Silencio Lake is as vivid before your eyes as it was two years ago, and your stomach clenches at the thought of going back.

  
He looks up at you from the console, eyes grapefruit-wide. "No," he says quickly, looking quickly behind you, then down and to the left. He turns back to the console, fiddling with the solar panel adjustment levers like they'll do something important. "Of course not, that would be silly," he mumbles.

  
"You know where we should go?" he shouts, excitement splashed over his face like a child's paint spill. "Banderastra! The multigalactic flag fair of the twenty-eighth century! Of course it got a bit awkward, what with thirty planets  _simultaneously_  coming up with the idea of putting their flag up in fireworks, but altogether a rowdy show! What do you say?" He spins, arm in the air.

  
"Sounds wonderful, darling," you agree magnanimously, and he begins flipping dials like a madman.

  
One of your toenails is digging into the digit beside it hard enough to cause bleeding, but your face is serene. His hunched back, twitching fingertips and bitten lips are not nearly so well hidden.

 

[*]

  
He thinks he's subtle, but you know all his tells.


	8. Torchwood, Jack/Alonso, Just Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt, ‘Jack/Alonso, How did you know how I take my coffee?’ on comment-fic.

When the Doctor introduced Jack to Alonso, he was expecting someone who needed his help. Maybe, if the Doctor was feeling particularly generous that day, he’d be able to get along with the guy. When it turned out that Alonso wanted to go traveling, and that he was a flexible sort of bloke as well as an adventurous one, Jack decided that the Doctor had been paying him back for the last few times he’d helped save the universe.  
Alonso was young, and more than a little naïve. He’d been sheltered in relative prosperity for most of his life, but he’d been a bit disillusioned- while he was with the Doctor, Jack presumed. He was compassionate with the refugees they came across on their travels and stood by Jack’s decision to get involved in an intergalactic conflict.

Jack was surprised by Alonso’s ability to lie and manipulate, despite his innocent face. He slipped as easily as Jack back into military life and was a reliable assistant. He followed Jack’s lead and hid his confusion and doubts until it was just the two of them. Oftentimes his patience, common sense and genuine friendliness helped them solve disagreements among their contemporaries that Jack’s bull-headed approach would have exacerbated.

They’d been traveling and working together for nearly a year when Jack’s suspicious nature was finally given something to work with. For a long time, he’d had an odd feeling about Alonso; almost from the minute he met the young man, in fact. They’d fitted together far too easily, as though they already knew one another at the deepest level. Alonso was so good at guessing what Jack needed, at pasting on a toothy smile even when he was upset. Jack had ignored the prickling in his memory, refusing to allow his past to taint the present.

But when Alonso brought him the quadrant’s newest exotic import, a drink from a faraway plant that scientists had recently begun replicating for mass production, Jack’s sense memory hit him so hard that he saw double for a few seconds. He saw two pale-skinned, wide-eyed faces, two sets of dark hair and two twin smirks at his expression. He swallowed the large gulp he’d taken from the cup, expecting his usual energy drink, and the second figure disappeared.

“How do you know how I take my coffee?” Jack asked, voice rasping from swallowing the too-hot liquid.

“Coffee?” Alonso repeated, looking surprised. “Have you had it before? This is from the first batch to hit the colonies.”

Jack shook his head, staring down into the brew. Milk and sugar, a hint of brown sugar for special occasions. “Never mind.” He smiled at Alonso. “It tastes wonderful.”

The grin he got in return- too bright, too unreserved? Or just right?- warmed his heart.

Jack never told Alonso his suspicions, but he made sure to tell him he loved him, as often as he could.


End file.
